


No Fairy Lights

by mapleandmahogany



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drabble, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-13
Updated: 2006-12-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleandmahogany/pseuds/mapleandmahogany
Summary: Ron is still such a boy sometimes, especially at Christmas.





	No Fairy Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for the Make the Yule Tide Gay drabble challenge on Live Journal. Thanks to KJCP for the beta! :)   


* * *

~^~

“Harry? Harrrr-ry … _Morning_.” His voice breaks through my heavy layer of dreamless and comfortable sleep.

“S’not morning, Ron. It’s still dark,” I murmur into my pillow. I can feel the cool air in the room so I nestle lower under the heavy quilt.

“But it’s Christmas,” Ron says.

“It was already Christmas when we came to bed at 1am. You drank more whisky than I did, don’t you want to sleep?”

“I want to open our stockings.”

He is still such boy sometimes.

“Our stockings will still be there in a few more hours.”

I hear him make a disappointed “humph” behind me and he flops back onto his pillow.

He’s quiet for just long enough that I fade back to into sleep when I feel something poke me in the lower back. I can’t be quite sure it’s a finger or a cock.

“You awake, Harry?” Ron asks, arching into me …so definitely a cock, then.

“What, Ron?” I ask, trying not to sound to frustrated, and as if I don’t know _what_.

“Do you wanna fool around before we go downstairs?”

I realize he isn’t wearing anything and apparently it doesn’t matter how old I get, having Ron behind me, naked, and tugging my pajama bottoms down is still all it takes to get me hard.

Funny how even though I’m still wearing a t-shirt and my sweats are on but pushed down to my knees, that I feel so _exposed_. Ron squeezes my arse and slides into me, hot and slick that I remember how good “quick and dirty” used to be.

I vaguely think about how it’s Christmas morning and there’s a tree downstairs and we’ll be sitting to dinner with his family later. I suppose right now this sex should be sweet, and slow, underneath fairy lights, but it’s not. It’s rough and fast and already sweaty and I can hear the muffled sound of our skin slapping together under the quilt. Ron squeezes my hip hard as he pounds into me, and I love knowing that I’ll have his finger marks on me and have to shift in my seat just to be comfortable at dinner.

I furiously stroke myself, until I come all over the bedclothes and as soon as I do, Ron pushes me forward onto my stomach and fucks me into the mattress. He grunts over my shoulder as he comes, snarling my name, and it’s _not_ romantic; but it’s perfect.

And I love it.

I love him.

I love us like this.

“Happy Christmas,” Ron says, stating it as a fact rather than a wish to me. He cleans us with a charm and then curls around me, spooning me. Feeling sated and content, I start to drift off to sleep again.

“Harry, wanna go open our stockings now?”

Maybe I can pretend I’m sleeping.

“Harry, come on, please? ... Please? … Please? …Please? …Please?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Ron. Let’s go on, then.”

I never can deny him anything.

~^~


End file.
